A Peony for Your Claws: a Paranormal Romantic Comedy by L.V. Oaks

Author:L.V. Oaks [Oaks, L.V.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2024-08-30T00:00:00+00:00

Cedric

As per Delilah’s request, we eat the heart-shaped pizza on the front porch.

I thought I saw a bug get stuck to one of her slices, but Delilah insisted she accidentally swallowed worse in her life, which made me choke, which resulted in her slapping my back until I could get enough air back in my lungs.

Not my smoothest moment, though she never seems to mind when I make a fool of myself.

She sighs happily as she leans back, resting her weight on her hands. “It never gets old,” she says, looking up at the star-studded sky. “What’s Cambridge’s sky like?”

I click my tongue, turning to look at her. “Why, are you planning to visit?”

She doesn't even know I could never allow it, thanks to Joe, yet she smiles sadly in response.

“Not as clear as here,” I continue as a sting of pain prickles in my chest. “But not as bad as you’d think. Though in fairness, I’m not usually one to stop and look up.”

“That’s because you’re too busy looking down at your watch,” she says, pushing her shoulder lightly against mine.

“It’s a nice watch.”

She makes a noncommittal sound. “Is there some family history behind it, or did you buy it with your important manager money?”

I could lie, I know I could. I could say I bought it and let that be that. But I promised I’d answer her questions, if I could, and I will not go back on that, no matter how hard it is.

“Eliza–my stepmother–stole it from my dickhead father to give it to me,” I say simply. I don’t think I’ve ever talked crap about Joe to anyone but Marcus, and it feels like a massive weight has been lifted off my chest just by calling my father out loud for what he is.

Delilah’s eyebrows meet on her forehead. I fear she might express sympathy for my complicated parental situation, though nothing along the lines of ‘I’m sorry’ comes out of her mouth.

“They don’t have an amicable relationship, I take it?”

“You could say that,” I huff. And I could stop talking, but now that I’ve started, I don’t want to. “My father realized he couldn’t accept her for all that she is, and by the point things got unbearable, well. She had to leave.”

Delilah nods, expression troubled. “Do you see her often?”

I shake my head, keeping my gaze ahead of me. “I haven’t–” I clear my throat to dispel the knot of emotion. “I haven’t seen her at all, since she’s left. I couldn’t.”

Delilah’s breath catches, and she places a light hand on my arm. “It must have been difficult.”

“Sometimes, but she calls when she can. We–my brother and I–know she cares about us,” I say, grateful for her delicate support.

We’re both quiet for a few minutes when Delilah adds, “It sounds like it wasn’t her choice.”

“It wasn’t,” I agree, placing my hand above hers. “See? I have deep, dark secrets, too.”

I try saying it casually, but when I look up, Delilah’s hazel eyes are on me: big, somber, kind.

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